


Backward We Traveled to Reclaim the Day (Before We Fell, Like Icarus, Undone)

by QueenBoudica



Category: Disney Fairies, Secret of the Wings (2012)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because I Really Ship These Two, Canon Compliant, Canon Disabled Character, I Will Go Down With This Ship, In which I treat this movie far more seriously than it deserves, Romance, Sad with a Happy Ending, brief s/o to rosetta/sled bc they're adorable, quarantine fic, this is really just a thinly veiled excuse to write them pining for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22998268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBoudica/pseuds/QueenBoudica
Summary: The healing fairy looked hesitant. “It’s just—you wanted to be alerted if any fairy crossed the seasonal border, right?”Clarion’s heart caught in her throat.Five times Queen Clarion and Lord Milori worried about Tinker Bell and Periwinkle, and one time they didn’t.
Relationships: Clarion/Milori (Disney Fairies), Periwinkle & Tinker Bell (Disney Fairies)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 115





	Backward We Traveled to Reclaim the Day (Before We Fell, Like Icarus, Undone)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to anyone who is actually reading this fic for some reason bc this is the most obscure fandom I've ever written for so thank you
> 
> I watched this movie after school one time in high school and it made me very emotional and I literally screamed when they kissed at the end and yes I do know that the movie is technically about tinkerbell and periwinkle but idgaf I'm all about queen clarion and lord milori
> 
> A few notes about the fic:  
> there is (obviously) no doctor/patient confidentiality, or at least, a monarch can overrule it  
> the doctor has no name in canon, so I made one up  
> I did the same for milori's owl

“Your Majesty?”

Clarion turned around to see one of the healing talent fairies—Doctor Maebell, if she remembered correctly—approach her. 

“Yes?” she asked.

The other fairy looked hesitant. “It’s just—you wanted to be alerted if any fairy crossed the seasonal border, right?”

Clarion’s heart caught in her throat. Her mind cast back to days full of love and laughter, of white hair and cool, dark eyes. Of a broken wing, bitter cold, and an even more bitter farewell.

“Your Majesty?” the doctor ventured hesitantly, when her question garnered no response.

She shook her head, dispelling the memories of the past and grounding herself in the present moment. “Yes, I did. What has happened?”

The doctor regained some of her confidence. “Earlier today, a fairy was brought to me with wings that were almost frozen: a result of her crossing the border. I was able to warm them up again, but I thought you should know about it.”

“Yes, thank you,” Clarion replied automatically. Her mind was swimming with concerns so rapidly that she almost didn’t notice when the doctor, unsure if she should stay, began backing out of the room. 

She just barely had the presence of mind to remember to ask the most important question.

“Which fairy was it?”

The doctor turned back, surprised at having been addressed again. “Tinker Bell, Your Majesty.”

Clarion dismissed her absently and turned back to her balcony, mind once again clouded with turbulent thoughts. Tinker Bell. That was not good, to put it mildly. While there were more stubborn fairies in Pixie Hollow, there were few who were as reckless and determined. No, it was the combination of these traits that made Tinker Bell one of the worst possible fairies to cross the border. Because once that girl got it in her head to do something, she would do it, regardless of how many obstacles got in her way.

It reminded Clarion of another young fairy long ago, headstrong and willful, who ignored the risks inherent in crossing the seasonal border, confident that no harm would come of it. Only to be all the more devastated when it had. But that was long ago, and that fairy had grown up, gaining wisdom with her years.

Only Tinker Bell was so, so young, and she had none of the insight or experience that Clarion did. If she had her sights set on crossing the border, there was nothing anyone could do to stop her. Clarion could only hope that her curiosity was sated and that she wouldn’t try again. 

(But even as she did so, she was certain that the worst was yet to come.)

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-

When Milori had entered the library, he’d heard Dewey whispering with someone up in the rafters (well, the library didn’t have rafters, but if it did, Milori imagined, that’s where they’d be). It was rude to eavesdrop, he reminded himself, so instead of giving in to temptation and listening to the hushed conversation, he pretended to be ignorant of it entirely and began calling for Dewey as if he’d no idea where the other fairy was.

After a few more sibilant exchanges, Dewey drifted down to greet him.

And he was acting... odd. 

Well, odder than normal. 

While he was often twitchy, that could usually be put down to his scatterbrained tendencies—his physical movements barely having time to catch up with his disjointed thoughts. Now, however, his body language reeked of nervousness, with his movements very pointedly avoiding drawing attention to the area from which he’d descended. 

As his jittery motions normally encompassed all directions, his avoidance of that one spot only served to make it all the more obvious. 

Still, Milori feigned ignorance and allowed himself to be herded away to another area. The further away they moved, the more relaxed Dewey got and the more his stuttering lessened. (Not that it would ever be completely gone—that was just in Dewey’s nature.)

As much as the other fairy had relaxed, however, it was all undone once Milori mentioned the possibility of a warm fairy having crossed into the winter lands. The keeper immediately stiffened, visibly showing the restraint it took to not look behind himself. With what he presumably thought was a casual air, he shuffled to the side, so that Milori would need to turn his back to the area to continue looking at Dewey. 

With an internal sigh, he complied. It seemed that that wasn’t enough to abate the librarian’s nervousness, since he began rambling on about sweaters and warmth, tapping his cane on the ground in an obvious display of magic. Since nothing visible happened, Milori could only assume it was related to whatever Dewey was hiding from him. 

Well, he _said_ “whatever”. In reality, he had a pretty good idea. An idea that was only further confirmed by the look of guilt on the librarian’s face when Milori reminded him of the rules and why they existed in the first place. Without much hope, he commanded Dewey to send any hypothetical warm fairies that he may encounter in the future back from whence they came, hoping against hope that either the librarian or the warm fairy listening in from above would heed his words. 

But, deep down, he knew better. He’d known what it was like to cross to the other side, to experience the exotic weather, plants, and animals of a different climate. He knew the exhilaration of interacting with different fairies in different colours with different customs. And he knew just how likely it was that the warm fairy was going to be willing to give it up anytime soon. And as much as he respected Dewey, he knew that the man was a romantic and a sucker for the idea of adventure. There would be no help from him.

Yes, he held out hope that one of them would change their minds. But he was also realistic. And he knew, more likely than not, how this would end.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-

After returning from the library, Milori sent Eldaron to the border to check if, on an off chance, the fairy decided to go back home. He wasn’t holding his breath. So it was to his surprise that the owl came soaring back to him with news that very night.

So, the warm fairy—Tinkerbell, Eldaron had said—was Periwinkle’s sister. He wasn’t quite sure how exactly two fairies born of the same laugh could end up in different seasonal zones, but he disregarded that as irrelevant to the problem at hand. 

This was a problem. He knew how curious and persistent Periwinkle could be and, if her sister was anything like her—which, given the fact that she’d broken the rules to come visit the winter lands on a whim, was very likely—then they wouldn’t give up. They’d clearly bonded even though they’d only known each other for a short period of time, and they would want to spend more time together, heedless of rules.

Heaven knows that’s what _he_ had done.

Milori sighed heavily, and rubbed his temples. He’d have Eldaron keep watch over the border for a few days, just to make sure that, if one of them tried to cross again—and they almost certainly would—he would be prepared to take whatever action was necessary to ensure their safety.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-

Just as he suspected, Eldaron came back the very next day to let him know that, not only had one of them crossed—Periwinkle, this time—but she’d been aided by a whole host of warm fairies, presumably Tinkerbell’s friends, who’d developed a contraption that, in theory, generated enough snow that a winter fairy could be on the other side of the border without risk to their health.

It was a nice idea, but Milori knew better. Even if the ice lasted long enough, the snow generated wouldn’t be able to make up for the ambient temperature of the other land. It would be a temporary measure at best, perhaps staving off the worst of the warmth just enough that Periwinkle wouldn’t notice how her health was declining until it was too late.

She would get distracted by all the colourful beauty and exoticism of the other land, exploring and meeting new fairies with different occupations and hobbies than those held in the winter realm. She would be caught up in the thrill of experiencing a whole new environment and culture—and the fact that she had a sister she’d never known—and she wouldn’t pay attention to the insidious warmth that crept in under her skin and infiltrated her body and her wings until it was too late and her wings were broken and she would never be able to fly again, instead having to rely on walking and riding animals and wearing a cloak all the time to cover the shame—

—and it was possible that Milori was projecting. He managed, with difficulty, to snap back to the matter at hand. Periwinkle would be returning soon, whether of her own volition or as an unconscious body being frantically transported by her sister and her friends. He would be there to help the warm fairies take her to safety, if necessary. 

After all, it’s not like _he_ had anything to lose by breaking a wing.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-

Clarion was shivering. It had been years since she’d experienced a cold this deep—or anything chillier than a minor breeze, really.

All around her, fairies were darting about, leaves clutched in frantic hands as they lay them on the branches of the Pixie Dust tree. She was grateful for their optimism—the longer they spent working on contingencies, the less time they spent confronting the very real fact of the matter: that Pixie Hollow was about to become irreparably frozen over. 

She, however, had no such luxuries. 

The efforts of her fairies were endearing, they really were. And perhaps even a few of them would bear fruit, in the short term. But these stopgap measures would have no hope of enduring through what would no doubt be the most drastic calamity Pixie Hollow had ever faced. 

Even if the frost were to one day be abated, the chances of the animals her fairies had sequestered away surviving that long were laughable. There would be no food for them, no habitat. All the animals capable of hibernation and adaptation had already crossed the border. For those who remained within the barriers of the warmer lands, a swift death by ice would be a mercy.

And the odds of survival for her fairies were looking about as grim. True, they would be able to evade the cold for a bit, hiding in the crooks of the pixie dust tree, but sooner or later they would need food, which would mean leaving their temporary shelters, even if there was any food to be found in the first place.

Still, now wasn’t the time to be thinking such thoughts; it was the time to take as much action as possible in order to mitigate future harm. If only there were something she could do. She couldn’t help Tinkerbell’s companions frost over the tree; all she could do was watch. And there was no way that the three of them could cover the tree in time. 

She was pulled out of her train of thought when she heard the hooting of an owl. She looked up. 

For a moment there, she didn’t believe what she was seeing. It couldn’t really be him. Because she’d known she was never going to see him again; she’d made her peace with that. (Well. She’d tried. She’d have gotten there one day.) 

She blinked. It was really him. She just barely managed to refrain from shouting out his name, like some sort of lovesick teenager. Instead, she kept her composure, and helped direct the team to best save the tree. 

The ice was continuously creeping forward, but Milori and his fairies were faster. By the time the ice had encroached upon the tree, the whole thing was enrobed in frost.

And for a moment, everything was happy.

Then she heard a gasp. She whirled around to see Tinkerbell’s coat on the ground and her wings exposed. 

One of them was broken.

She saw Milori’s face and, though he hid it well, she knew him well enough to tell that he was as stricken as she. 

This was the very thing they’d tried to prevent. The very reason that they passed the law forbidding fairies to cross. The reason that she’d resigned herself to a lifetime away from her lover. 

And it hadn’t even worked.

She knew that she’d never really understand how hard it was living with a broken wing. Milori hadn’t ever spoken about it, but she’d seen the despair in his eyes at times when he watched other fairies fly. 

And now it had happened to one of hers. Someone under her protection. And she’d failed once again.

This was her fault, she knew. If she’d made more of an effort to discourage Tinkerbell from crossing the border, this never would’ve happened. Pixie Hollow never would’ve gotten iced over, and one of her fairies wouldn’t have had to spend the rest of her life flightless. 

But it had. 

And she would. 

And there was nothing Clarion could do about it.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-

Shouts of delight filled the air as fairies skidded across the ice, occasionally falling. Clarion had been keeping an eye on Rosetta, as she was notoriously clumsy. When she had crashed, however, it was into the arms of an attractive cold fairy. A blush spread across the flower fairy’s cheeks as he helped steady her, his own cheeks tinted as well. As they began to engage in conversation, Clarion looked away, a small smile on her lips. Clearly, she had nothing to worry about there.

She returned her attention to the clearing at large. 

Clarion wrapped her coat a little bit more snugly around herself as she watched the petals and snowflakes fall from the air, pressing herself a little closer against Milori’s warm, broad chest. 

The two of them were content to merely watch their fairies enjoy themselves, the warm fairies obviously enamoured with the new environment, and the winter fairies just as obviously pleased to show off their land to the visitors. 

Later, she and Milori would work out how they were going to proceed. For now, they had each other, and that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> As one could probably guess from the timing, I wrote this while in quarantine, under a shelter in place order. I hope all of you are able to safely take care of yourselves and that you and your loved ones stay healthy during this trying time. If there's any support I can offer, please let me know, even if it's just to listen while you rant about how incompetent some of our governments are at containing the virus.
> 
> Again, I wish you all the best! Make sure to wash your hands!


End file.
